


Leaving Neverland

by AtOnceUponSomeChaos



Series: Leaving Neverland [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Brotp, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Feels, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtOnceUponSomeChaos/pseuds/AtOnceUponSomeChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma's recurring nightmare is stealing her sleep and she asks a certain pirate for a favor: to chase it away. Hook has some terms of his own and they discover neither one of them can handle it. Canon through most of 3x09 and then meets canon again as they arrive in Storybrooke. Takes place as the "Nevengers" sail away from Neverland, shortly after rescuing Henry. ***RATED M*** <br/>Cross posted at ff.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma brushed her fingers over Henry's hair, smoothing it back over his forehead, watching the steady movement of his chest. She fought the urge to lay her hand over his heart again, to verify for the hundredth time it was in his chest.

"Hey." Neal's voice came from behind her, startling her. "How's our son?"

"Still sleeping." Emma gave in and placed her hand on Henry's chest, the reassuring thumps telling her he would be all right.

"When was the last time you slept?"

More than a few hours? Since she left Storybrooke. How many days ago? Or was it weeks? They all blurred into a single long day of Neverland twilight. "A while."

"Go get some rest. I'll stay with him."

Emma checked Henry's chest again.  _Thump thump. Thump hump._  "I can't leave him."

"You're not. You're just getting sleep." Neal placed his hands on her shoulder, turning her toward the door. "I'll find you if he wakes up." He gave her a gentle push. "Go."

Emma was too tired to fight him. She left the room, her feet echoing on the wooden planks as she walked down the narrow hallway to the berth where everyone else slept. A soft snore reached through the door, begging her to enter and join the others in sleep.

She leaned against the door, the wood cool against her forehead as she closed her eyes.

_Henry. His heart in his hand. "I love you too. But I have to save magic. I'm sorry." Placing his heart into Pan's chest._

The image refused to leave. Sleep would remain elusive until it did.

If it ever did.

Emma stumbled back to the small room where Henry slept, pausing outside the door as she took in Neal, his hand placed on top of Henry's chest. A small smile painted on Neal's face told her the truth.

Safe. Henry was safe.

Relief slammed into her, battering her, a tsunami of emotion she was helpless against.

She fled, careful to not draw Neal's attention. The ship was familiar to her now and even in the dark she had little difficulty maneuvering through the walkways. Tears threatened to spill as she found the door to Hook's cabin. She didn't bother knocking—Hook was busy steering the ship—as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

The darkness was complete inside and Emma sank against the door while full body sobs wracked her body so hard she fought for breath.

The stress of being strong as the leader of their group. The lack of sleep. Mourning Neal. Finding out Neal still lived. Her parents willing to leave her again. Watching Hook and Neal almost have their shadows ripped from their bodies. Finding Henry only to have him give his heart away and collapse into a lifeless shell. The relief of feeling Henry's heart beat again.

Too much. It was all too much.

A creak whispered across the room and instinct kicked in. She froze, her cries silent, and crouched into fighting position.

"Emma?" Hook's voice was deeper than usual, his unmistakable lilt coated in sleep. "That you, love?"

She thanked the darkness for hiding the embarrassment flooding her face and stood up. "I thought you were at the helm." She fumbled in the dark, searching for the doorknob and escape. "Sorry for waking you."

"Your father offered to take a turn." Somehow he had crossed the room in record time, his silhouette next to hers. "Did something happen?"

"N-no." Leftover tears hovered at the edge of her control, searching for freedom.

"Are you alright?"

His question, filled with concern and worry, tipped the scales and the floodgate broke, her careful control washed away.

He wrapped her in his arms immediately, her head against his shoulder and arms returning the hug, his heat surrounding her. "Let it out, love."

It might have been seconds. Or minutes. But gradually her sobs subsided and she realized why he was so warm.

Hook was completely naked.

The revelation proved the perfect cure for drying lingering tears as awareness pooled in her belly. Everywhere his skin touched hers fire danced as his heat seeped through the tank top and pants she still wore.

Hook's body tensed around her, sensing the change. "Emma?"

_It's just a hug_ , she tried to tell herself, even as she became very aware of the growing hardness pressing into her body. She closed her eyes, to steel herself and pull away, and the images bombarded her.

_Hook's mouth on her body, licking a trail down to her thighs. Her hands twisted in his hair as she moaned at his attention. His words of love just before he sent her spiraling out of control._

Her Neverland dream—another thief stealing sleep from her nights before the moment at skull rock—came rolling back.

And while once unwelcomed and feared, it chased away the haunting picture of her lifeless son—the first time since that day. The lesser of two evils.

An unbidden thought raced through her mind: If a dream was powerful enough to scare the nightmare away, would the reality remove it for good?

She would do anything to have it gone.

She loosened her grip, allowing her fingers to traces the lines on Hook's back, noting multiple ridges marring his smooth flesh, and finally resting her hands on his hips. She heard his breath catch as she pulled him closer, digging his arousal into her body.

"Emma, what are you doing?" His voice shook, catching Emma off guard as the moments she'd locked away to save Henry broke free from their prison.

His secret in the cave.

" _I never thought I could be capable of letting go of my first love, my Milah. To believe that I could find someone else. That is until I met you."_

His words afterwards.

" _So when I win your heart, Emma—and I will win it—it will not because of any trickery. It will be because you want me."_

And she did want him, but she wasn't ready to love someone again, to trust someone not to hurt her, especially a pirate.

Though he was more than that now.

He'd come to Neverland for Henry, the sole person not related to him, to rescue him.

He'd saved David from dreamshade and somehow befriended him.

He'd told them about Neal when it would've been easier to keep silent.

He'd gone first in the cave, when the rest of them hadn't believed and feared sharing the truth.

Somehow through it all, he'd become her friend, the first person she could talk to since Mary-Margaret had become "mom".

She owed him honesty.

She released her grip on Hook, nudging him away until he broke contact. A chill surrounded her, her body lamenting his loss as she took a deep breath. "We need to talk."

* * *

 

Four words every man dreaded hearing. Especially when naked.

"If it's one of those conversations, I'm a tad under-dressed." He couldn't read her in the dark, though his eyes were adjusted enough to make out her features. He needed more light. "Hold on." He spun on his heel and walked back to the bed. He contemplated lighting the lantern before he put his pants on, just so he could see her reaction. Remembering her tears and how long it had taken her to even notice his lack of clothing, he decided not to tease her. Not tonight, anyway.

Hook pulled on his pants, lacing them loosely in an effort to hide his reaction to her. Not that she'd seemed to mind it a minute ago, far from it. He'd thought Emma an open book once—and she was—as long as it had nothing to do with  _him_. When it came to aspects of their relationship, he was a sailor lost at sea, trying not to do the bloody wrong thing and drown.

He lit the lantern next to his bed and its soft glow filtered through the room. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, seeking her out in the shadows by the door.

She hadn't moved. "I'm not going to bite, love." He patted the bed next to him, trying not to think of all the things he'd imagined doing to her on it since the day he'd climbed the damn beanstalk with her. "Come tell me what I've done wrong this time." He raised his eyebrow at her, trying to draw a smile out.

Emma took a tentative step forward, her tongue tracing her lips in a distracted fashion. It was unintentional—somehow he knew that—but his body reacted as though it was meant for him.

Then again, maybe it was, as her eyes refused to meet his, stuck a foot lower and focused on his bare chest. She took a few more steps and stopped, still ten feet away.

The woman was going to drive him mad.

He loved every damn minute.

"Typically when a woman asks to talk, there is actual talking." He grinned at her, again raising his eyebrows in question.

This time a hint of smile traced her face—a quick blip before vanishing—and it twisted something inside of him. "Thank you. For everything."

He couldn't hide his surprise. " _Everything_ , love?"

She cocked her head the side, thinking. "Not fighting over a lighter."

He grimaced. "Fair point."

She walked a few steps closer, tear-stained cheeks visible to him now. Hook's stomach clenched, wanting to erase whatever caused her pain. "You've done so much for me, for my family, while in Neverland. I like to think we're friends now and that's why I have no business asking you for a favor."

Wariness lined his face. "A favor, love?" Her words reminded him too much of Rumplestiltskin—a favor always came at a price.

"I'm going to explain something and I need you to hear me out, okay?" Her eyes were avoiding his again, their stare back on his chest.

Hook had no idea where this was going, her every move sending mixed signals. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Since the night at Skull Rock I've had these nightmares, only they aren't just nightmares. I see them every time I close my eyes. I see Henry holding his heart and giving it to Pan. I see him lifeless on the ground. Over and over again." Her voice wavered as she spoke, showing him the vulnerability she hid from the world.

"You did save him, Emma. It just took longer." Hook stood, wanting to hold her again, only to have her back away.

She thrust her arm between them, demanding space. "I failed him, Hook. I was there and it didn't matter."

"No, love, you succeeded. Is he not safe on my ship?" It killed him to stand apart from her when she was like this but he'd seen her with her family—she shied from physical contact from everyone but her boy—and knew it wasn't just him.

"He is. But the images didn't stop when we saved him. Then I came here and—"she paused, biting her lower lip as she glanced at his. "—and now I see you. Me. Us. I close my eyes and see us."

Hope swirled within him, even as he tried to decipher the meaning of her words. "And what exactly are we doing in these…images?"

Color painted her cheeks, telling him what he needed to know, even as she ignored his question. "I'm not ready, Hook. I can't choose to see where this thing—whatever it is between us—goes. Not yet." She swallowed, finally meeting his eyes. "I know you have….feelings for me, or are starting to. I don't want to hurt you but—"she paused, the plea in her eyes tearing into him, "I need you to make me forget the nightmare. I think you're the only one who can."

Hook's heart had nearly been ripped from his body three times in his life—literally. The crocodile. Cora. The crocodile again. They had each reached into his chest, squeezing it, stopping just short of tearing it free.

Somehow Emma's words had the power to replicate that same sensation.

He was damned if he agreed. He was damned if he didn't.

Agreeing would likely destroy him—the price if somehow he failed in winning her heart—but he couldn't deny her this.

He'd give her the world if she'd just let down her walls long enough to accept it.

Hook cocked his eyebrow at her yet again, lowering his voice and giving her a predatory grin. "Tell me, Emma, what exactly do you have in mind?"

* * *

 

No man should have the power to make her knees shake with just a smile.

"You agree?" Hook's quick acquiesce surprised her, no demands to make her choose or heart-rending claims of love.

"Aye, lass. Although if you'll be so kind—" he gestured toward the door behind her, "to slide the bolt before we start. I told your father to wake me when he tires at the helm and while I managed to win him over on Neverland, I don't think he'll take kindly to finding you here."

It was a move he could easily do himself, but instead he stood there, watching her, a question in his eyes. Emma recognized the test: he was giving her a chance to run even though this—whatever this transformed into—had been her idea.

Emma knew there would be a price for tonight, but running meant more nightmares. Nightmares that only feared a certain pirate. She whirled away, striding to the door and sliding the metal latch into place. The sound reached across the room, echoing with the finality of their decision.

She turned around to face him, half expecting him to already be there, ready to attack.

Instead he stood where she'd left him—surprising her again—waiting for her to make the first move.

Yes, it had been her idea, but she'd imagined him taking control, demanding everything he'd alluded to since they first met—allowing her to just feel and not think about possible ramifications.

She knew how to have a one night stand, how to lead, dominate, and leave. She remembered making love—having someone else's pleasure more important than your own.

Emma hadn't the slightest fucking idea how to initiate sex with a friend whose clothes she dreamed of ripping off, a friend she wanted to keep and be able to face the next day.

"Perhaps gratitude is in order now." Hook looked at her, gently tapping his lips—a perfect replay of their moment in Neverland.

A smile spread across her face, recognizing the dare, the challenge he gave her. She stalked toward him, closing the distance until only inches separated them. "Please, you couldn't handle it."

He leaned into her, his breath tickling her ear, heat from his body already surrounding her. "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."

In Neverland, she'd grabbed the collar of his coat, yanking him to her and shocking him with the kiss. This time there was nothing to grab—giving her the perfect chance to catch him off guard again.

Instead of pulling him into a kiss, she lifted her hands, threading her fingers through the hairs on his chest, her thumbs finding his nipples and brushing against them. She kept her eyes down, taking in his beauty, his sharp inhale encouraging her to continue. She let her nails trail travel downward, enjoying the muscled definition always hidden from her by layers of leather. She leaned closer, grazing her teeth where Hook's neck met his shoulder, taking her time as she traveled to his neck, licking and nibbling her way to the stubble on his jaw as his breaths became shallow.

She loved the taste of his skin, salty and so… _him_.

Emma ran her fingers up his side, her touch light as they journeyed over his chest again, to his shoulders, the back of his neck, one finding a home laced in his hair, the other using its thumb to outline his lips. She finally raised her gaze, letting him see the desire in her eyes as they met his blue ones.

Want. Need. A flicker of something she couldn't read. The heat in his gaze stripped her bare, and still he didn't move.

The man's control was infuriating.

Luckily, he wasn't the only one who liked a challenge.

Emma brought her body closer, pressing every inch of her lower body against his as her thumb continued caressing his lips. A groan escaped from him, but he didn't move, his hand and hook still hanging at his sides. She grinned at him, trying to channel her best Hook impression. "Waiting for an engraved invitation, love?" She laced the last word with his accent, trying to mimic his raised eyebrow move.

Humor mixed with the heat in his eyes, both cloaking… something. "Just the kiss, darling. But please, don't hurry on my—" his words cut off as Emma pulled his head the last few inches and quickly covered his lips with her own.

She tasted his surprise—god she loved to surprise him—and finally he moved, his right arm coming behind her, fisting his hand in her hair, deepening the kiss. Emma moved her free hand down his back, using it to push his hips even closer. He followed her lead, bringing his hook to her back, grinding his length into her.

She failed to stifle the moan rising in her throat, performing a duet with Hook's as he met her every move.

She darted her tongue along his lips, and with another groan, he opened his mouth to allow her entry. His tongue met hers in a duel—a perfect match for one another.

Every part of her body screamed for his touch, jealous of the attention her hair and lips received. The pressure on her hips only made her want more contact, until her bare skin met his.

_Soon_.

The room spun as dizziness hit Emma, her lungs demanding oxygen. She pulled her mouth away, breaking the kiss and leaning her forehead against his, keeping the rest of her body flush against his—hands holding him in place—as she fought to catch her breath.

Judging by Hook's heavy breathing, she wasn't the only one. "That was—" His voice was raw, hoarse.

"—my thank you. For helping me." Emma smiled, savoring the second time she'd rendered her pirate speechless.

_He isn't your pirate._

She shoved the thought away. This wasn't about them. This was about needing to forget.

_What will you do when you can't forget this?_

It was a simple one-time fling with the one person who understood her—a three hundred year-old pirate with a hooked hand, a penchant for leather, guy-liner, and rum, and the ability to make her smile in even in the shittiest of circumstances. She'd bury it with the other one-night stands and pull it out only if the nightmare returned.

_Liar_.

She was tired of thinking. She needed to erase the horror of Neverland and replace it with the one good thing from the island.

Hook.

She looked up at him from beneath her eyelids—remembering how he'd done the same when bandaging her hand what felt like a lifetime ago—only to find his eyes closed.

"Hook?"

His eyes sprung open at his name, the turmoil in them almost making her release her hold. "Yes, love?"

Her hand continued playing with his hair as she brushed a thumb against his cheek, "It's time for you to follow through on all those innuendos you're so fond of spouting."

A laugh erupted from his chest, its vibrations echoing all along her body. "I'm a man of honor." His thumb mirrored hers, gently grazing her cheek, causing her insides to dance. "Care to share one you're particularly fond of?"

Emma moved the hand on his back, feathering tiny circles on his skin until she arrived where their bodies pressed together. She reached between them, grasping him through the leather as his eyes darkened again. "It was something about your sword." She gripped him tighter as she uttered the last word. "How did it go?"

Mischief shone in his eyes through the fire as he gave her his patented Hook grin. "When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it."

She squeezed him again, reciprocating his smile. "Make me feel it, Hook."

* * *

**TBC...**


	2. What a Pirate Wants...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is most definitely rated "M" for hot steamy (smutty) sexy times. Skip the whole thing if that isn't your thing, as a certain pirate had very definite ideas on how he wanted this to play out.

_**Chapter 4:** _

Hook groaned at the pressure of Emma's hand against his body.

How many times had he dreamed of Emma coming to him, want in her eyes, needing him?

_Too many._

Having her before him, teasing him—the fire in her eyes mixed with challenge and vulnerability—far outstripped his imagination.

And he'd imagined quite a bit.

She released him, backing away and tossing him a smile.

It would be easy to accept her challenge, to lose control and drive into her until they both screamed in release.

_Bloody hell, he wanted that._

But he knew Emma too well. This night, this favor, was an aberration for her. She would use it to push him further away and he'd have to fight harder to get her to open up to him. To trust him.

To love him.

He wouldn't stop this, couldn't, but he could alter her rules of engagement.

He could try to brand himself into every inch of her body and hope it was enough.

_God help him if it wasn't._

His grin was still frozen on his face—hopefully hiding any sign of his inner turmoil—and he gave Emma a wink. "Oh, you'll feel it, darling." He used his hook and his hand to slowly drag up her shirt, making his touch light as he gave her both the cold steel and warm fingertips on her sides, enjoying the shiver racing up her body. He pulled it over her head and flung it across the room.

He eased the straps of her brassiere down her shoulders, using the same delicate touch as with her shirt, his eyes never leaving hers—where the teasing light evaporated, swallowed by her desire. And something else.

Or maybe his bloody hope ran too high, a contagious hazard of hanging with hero-types.

Her sharp gasp was real, as Emma's brassiere followed her shirt and his mouth traveled over her newly bared skin.

"Beautiful." The word came out softer than he'd intended, carrying too much emotion, a whisper against her body.

Emma's body stiffened and she put one hand beneath his chin to draw his face back to hers, her expression unreadable. "Tonight is a sure thing, Hook." Her other hand plucked at the laces of his pants, dipping her fingers beneath as he held back a moan. "I don't need words or seduction." She wrapped her hands around him and winked. "Just your sword." She moved her hand slowly. "Inside of me."

He growled, pushing her back against the ladder and lifting her onto one of the rungs as she released him and wrapped her legs around his waist. His fingers threaded into her hair as his mouth crushed hers. One of her hands grabbed his neck, yanked him closer, and demanded he deepen the kiss, her legs clenching his body as she rotated her hips.

It wasn't until the kiss broke apart and they gasped for air that Hook realized how completely he'd lost control of the situation.

_Bloody brilliant minx._

If he had more than tonight he wouldn't hesitate to do as she asked. He was dangerously on the brink of doing so in spite of his intentions.

But knowing Emma and the walls she clung to for protection—how this might be his one shot, his only shot to have her—it brought him back from the edge.

And he knew the only way he'd succeed.

He trailed kisses down her neck, lower and lower, past her collarbone and down to her chest, until he reached his goal, teasing one nipple with his tongue while his fingers flicked and circled the other.

His reward was a drawn out moan from Emma, her legs driving her core against him.

Pleasure surged through his body, her moans and the motion of her hips acting as a powerful aphrodisiac.

_Bloody hell._

He struggled for focus,  _needing_ to win this battle.

"Here's the thing, love." His continued his ministrations as he spoke, the soft words caressing her skin. "You asked me for a favor. You want me to chase away your nightmares." His fingers and tongue traded sides, as Emma's body arched and he almost lost his train of thought. His control hung by a thread and his words struggled to hide the extent of his need, knowing she'd use it against him. "And if I take you right now, against this bloody ladder, you'll miss all the pleasure I have planned." He drew her nipple into his mouth and she shuddered.

"Hook." His name was plea, asking him for—what?

"I  _will_  give you what you want, Emma. But first, I am going to touch and taste every inch of your body." His tongue circled her nipple and grazed it lightly with his teeth, his fingers gently pulling her other one as Emma bucked against him.

"Please." Her eyes flashed beneath her lowered lids—frustration, desire, surrender and defiance—all wrapped together.

"Those are my terms, love. If you can't handle it—," he paused, hovering his hand and mouth over her breasts, the only touch his whispered words, "—then I can always stop." It was a calculated risk and when she didn't immediately answer, he was afraid she'd call his bluff and end it.

The next ten seconds felt like the longest in his life.

_Please._

Then Emma groaned and pushed forward until her body met his waiting hand and mouth. She sighed with pleasure as he rewarded her action by drawing one nipple back into his mouth and rolling the other with his thumb.

His chest tightened as he took in the sight of her—her skin flushed with desire, her frustration with him evident even through her hungry gaze.

_So close. She just required one final nudge._

"Tell me, Emma—" his hook slowly trailed along her right side, "aren't you curious how many times I can make you surrender?" He gave her a lascivious look before increasing the pressure of his mouth and hand, his hook tugging at the band of her pants.

"Dammit, Hook. You're such a—" a gasp escaped her as he sucked harder, "— _pirate_."

He chuckled, hiding the relief that washed over him. "Is that a yes, love?"

"Yes!"

He laughed again—loving how her capitulation simultaneously managed to be a curse and plea at the same time—the sound cutting off as he turned the full attention of his mouth onto Emma.

* * *

It might have been seconds, minutes, an hour. Time lost all meaning. The world no longer existed outside the walls of his cabin—it was just her and Hook.

A haven Emma wanted to stay in forever—the idea terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

She bit back a moan threatening to escape as Hook continued to tease her.

_God, his hand. That mouth._

"Don't hold back, love. Not with me."

_Later. Worry about it later. Just feel._

Her skin was on fire as he played with her breasts, her stomach, the ridge of her collar bone. She let go of her restraint—knowing resistance was futile—and her groans and sighs echoed throughout the cabin.

"That's it, Emma. Don't hide it from me."

 _Damn_ ,  _he was good at this._

Her hands gripped his hair, her head leaning on the ladder as he covered her entire torso with light kisses, his tongue tracing the lines of her body, finding sensitive areas she didn't know existed. His hook and hand traveled to her waistband and he removed her pants and underwear with agonizing slowness, inch by inch, making good on his promise, tasting and licking his way down.

His erotic kisses drove her crazy, thoroughly touching every almost inch of her body, yet purposefully skirting the sensitive apex of her thighs—the spot craving his touch with a maddening insistence.

He licked her hips, traced the muscle contours of her inner thighs—avoiding the center where they met—tickled the back of her knee—who knew it was so sensitive?—even nipped her ankle as he finally pulled her legs free from her clothing.

She nearly sobbed in relief when he tossed her pants away, certain now he would do what every one night stand before had done and just  _take_  her.

But Hook wasn't every man.

_And you really think this can be a one-time thing?_

She shoved the thought away as Hook worked his way back up. Inch. By. Agonizing. Inch.

She was lost, releasing a constant stream of moans and pleas, stopping just short of begging him to take her into his mouth—an act she'd avoided for the intimacy involved ever since she'd walled herself off from the world—something she desperately wanted from  _him_.

"Do you have any idea how amazing you are, Emma?" His voice was tight, reminding her of a spring about to snap, as her inner thigh received his attention.

_He was close, so close to it. Please._

He passed her aching center again, a whisper of breath the only touch it received—sending a tremor through her body, and she groaned in protest.

She could feel his smile against her stomach, the scruff of his face brushing the already sensitized skin. "All in good time, love. After all, it would be bad form to go back on my word and not taste  _every_  part of you."

"Hook…" She hated the desperation she heard in her voice—but no longer had the willpower to remove it.

He ignored her plea and pulled one of her hands free from his hair, pressing a kiss on the sensitive inside of her wrist, against her palm, before his tongue followed the life lines etched into them, continuing all the way to the edge of her hand and running over her thumb until he enveloped it with his mouth.

_Oh, God. His tongue needed a warning label._

The nerves in her hand were sending waves of pleasure straight to the one spot he so studiously avoided.

The fire in his eyes met hers as he continued onto her fingers.

Then her arm, elbow, shoulder, neck, the outside of her ear.

_I am dying._

She cursed him for doing this to her, weakening her, transforming her into a giant ball of nerves, shaking with every touch and lick.

Making her feel wanted and cherished.

His eyes found hers again and— _god_ —there was need there, wild and ready to break free, but it mingled with something else: love.

_Nonono. I can't handle this. It's all too much._

His kisses traveled her jaw, a brief brush against her lips—gone before she could deepen it—before they moved to her other ear. They were slow, deliberate, as if she were a treasure meant to be savored. Precious. Wanted.

_Hot. So unbelievably hot._

_What if I let him in…_

She closed her eyes, scared of what he might see within their depths.

His thumb brushed her cheek. "Please don't shut me out, love. Not tonight." His aching words whispered in her ear, full of desperate need, and he finally stopped kissing her, moving so his forehead pressed into hers, his breath on her lips. "Please, Emma."

His voice was so…wrecked…she couldn't deny him and opened her eyes.

His blue eyes met hers, allowing her to see into his soul—and he into hers.

She was vulnerable and exposed under his heated gaze—trapped by the desire he spun around her.

_She needed to leave. Too close._

_She needed to stay. So close._

Emma had to break the spell before it consumed her. She reached for him, intent on cutting the thick intimacy holding her in its web and speeding things up, needing release for her body and from the bond weaving him into her heart. He caught her hands, pulling them above her until they rested a few rungs above her head.

His body pressed into hers, the hairs of his chest brushing against her sensitized body, the cool leather pants a contrast to her heated skin. His movements caused his pants to slip lower, barely hanging into his body, exposing the tip of him—hot and hard against her abdomen.

_Oh God._

He groaned—her body trembling from the sound—as she leaned against him, increasing the pressure. Then he pulled back, still holding her arms above her head as he ran the cool curve of his hook along the inside of her leg. His eyes bore into hers, letting her see all of his tightly reigned passion and her knees nearly buckled from the power of it.

Or maybe it was from his hook, now running down the inner part of her other thigh.

"Do you feel how close I am to doing as you ask, love? How desperately I want to feel you shatter around me?" His voice was raw, strained.

He would be the end of her.

"Yes!" Her raw need mirrored his.

"I can take you right now, Emma. Or—" he used his hook to twist her around, the front of her body now pressed against the ladder, the heat of him against her back, and his hand still trapping her arms above, "—I can finish what I promised and taste the rest of your body." The curve of his hook traveled from her lower back, across her left hip; following the vee until it the coolness brushed the very center of her. "All of it."

She nearly came undone from the simple touch, her body primed to explode at the slightest provocation and another cry escaped.

"Should I taste you first, Emma?" Heated anguish laced his words, simultaneously begging her to say no, to let him have her now, while pleading with her to let him finish his torturous ministrations.

It hit her then, how his actions affected him as much as her. He not only understood her need, but returned it with equal fervor.

It was an unbelievable turn on. Powerful.

What she didn't know was why he clung to his control and didn't give into what they both wanted.

_Yes, you do… you just won't admit it._

She buried the thought as he gently bit into her shoulder, soothing the spot with his tongue as his hook went to her stomach, pulling her body tight against his.

"Emma?"

She knew she could say no and snap the control he'd used to make her beg, finally easing the incredible ache he'd refused to satisfy.

One word and he would give in.

_He wants me to say no. He can't handle it anymore._

_Neither can you._

They were perfect match for each other and  _dammit_ , she wouldn't allow him to stop until he unraveled as well.

She took a deep breath and her fingers gripped the rung of the ladder, bracing for the fallout of what she was about to say and coveting every second. "Yes."

His only answer was a growl, wild and untamed. His hook brushed her long hair aside, draping it over her front, exposing her back as his mouth educated her on exactly how erogenous a back could be.

_Who the hell knew?_

His motions lacked his earlier calmness—still slow and thorough, but his breathing was labored, as if he all his energy went into holding himself together—the ravenous pirate ready to break free.

"I'm going to release your hands, love." His voice shook and sent another thrill through her body. "But if you move, I doubt I will have the power to taste  _every_  part of you." His hand released hers, feathering its way down her side, his hook on the other—heat and steel driving her mad. She tightened her hold on the ladder rung as he lowered his body again—down down down—until his lips found the curve of her bottom, his hook the underside of her breast and his fingers—

_Oh my god. Please._

—they found her slick folds and slid along the outside, so close…

_So very, very close._

One finger slipped inside and she moaned—the sound mingling with his.

_By all that is holy—more!_

"You're killing me, love." The words were low and harsh, as though she was the one touching him.

_I miss touching him._

"Let me touch you." Her voice wavered as his finger moved inside her.

A feral growl vibrated against her skin but he didn't budge.

Another finger joined the first as his lips moved from her left side to her right.

_More. Not enough. Closer._

"Hook…"

Another growl erupted from him and she wondered if he could talk at all anymore.

" _Please…_ "

"As you wish… Emma." She barely recognized his voice, destroyed and so full of emotion her heart twisted.

_It means "I love you." He couldn't possibly know that._

His fingers left her, but before she could protest he stood, whipped her around, hoisted her bottom onto a rung of the ladder, and crushed her mouth and body to his. His tongue slid inside, finding hers, and they deepened their kiss together, their breaths turning ragged.

_Home. This is right._

She was too lost to fight traitorous thoughts right now.

_Later. Worry later. Just feel._

His fingers found her breasts again and it was all she could do not to scream in both satisfaction and aggravation. Every piece of her body wanted him. Needed him.

_More._

Her legs crumpled and he used his hook to catch her right leg and pull it up. Taking the hint, her left joined it, wrapping around his waist as she caressed his chest, his back, marveling at the tensed corded muscles hinting he held the tiniest bit back.

Emma wanted her pirate free.

_Your pirate? Getting a bit possessive?_

She undulated her body, gasping as she brushed against the soft leather and the hardness straining to break free.

_So close. So very close. Just a little more._

A groan—so loud she was certain everyone on the ship could hear it—tore from his throat. He broke the kiss—the quick agonized look he gave her telling her he wanted to continue—and unlatched her legs— _no, she wasn't finished_ —draping them over his shoulders.

Like he knew her legs no longer possessed the strength to support her body.

"I promised to taste every inch of you." His warm breath hovered over her center and she trembled from its heat. "I do believe I've missed a spot, love," he said, slow, labored, as if each word took too much effort to form.

_More._

His thumb brushed against her, once, twice and—"

 _Yes_!

"Hook!" Her fingers dug into his shoulders—he moaned as she clawed him—as she shattered from the light caress. Such a simple touch, yet thanks to his teasing, it was all she needed—her body shaking from the power as she rode the ride of ecstasy to the end.

Only it didn't end.

Because then,  _finally_ , his tongue was on her, swirling around the spot it had neglected all night. His fingers slid inside her again and the orgasm she'd thought was over was definitely  _not_  over.

It built within quickly; rising, soaring, still echoing with the effects of her first, and then she was  _there_ , crying out his name over and over as her she fractured into a million pieces. It lasted forever _—_ the vibration of his moans traveling to her body through his touch—extending it further.

_Oh, God, he isn't done._

He drew her into his mouth, licking, teasing, sucking—his fingers moving faster.

Already the pressure grew again, climbing higher, her body so incredibly sensitive each touch bordered on pain—his mouth was too much and yet she would die if he stopped.

_Not enough. Never enough._

She needed more.

_Close again. So close._

Her body tensed, ready for another release, when he stopped.

A whimper of protest escaped.

 _Damn him for reducing her to this_.

He stood slowly—his body rigid, clenched—removing her legs from his shoulders, caressing her legs as he went up her body. Up. Up. His hook tucked a lock of hair behind her, his hand cupping the side of her face.

Finally his eyes met hers.

_Oh holy god._

"Emma?"

She answered his question, reaching for him and loosening the laces of his pants, her motions rushed, frantic. A loud  _thunk_  sounded next to her—a quick glance showing her he'd buried his hook into the ladder—and she yanked his pants to the tops of his legs.

_Good enough._

He pushed her onto the ladder as her fingers gripped him tight—a string of curses erupting from his throat when she stroked him several times before guiding him to her entrance, rubbing him along the outside and testing his control.

_Playing with fire. You're going to burn..._

"So  _wet_ for me, love."

He shook—she'd never seen someone so close to breaking for so long—as he nudged her left leg onto the lowest run of the ladder, spreading her legs apart.

His mouth found hers—his kiss already familiar—as he slid inside of her, slowly, allowing her to adjust and stretch around him, until all of him rested inside her.

Like he belonged there.

_Don't think about it._

_Full. So full._

"Hook." A whispered prayer.

He snapped.

A savage growl escaped from him and sent shivers down her spine as he withdrew almost completely, before burying himself in her again with a hard thrust.

" _Hook_."

And she was lost, barely feeling the edge of the ladder digging into her back as he filled her again and again.

His heated skin set hers on fire.

_Hot. So hot._

The motion glided him across the most sensitive part of her with each movement—it already ached from his mouth—and within minutes she was on the edge.

"God…  _Hook_!"

He thrust faster, his breathing irregular, panting and gasping.

It amazed her, how perfect it felt, his silky hardness completing her, making her whole.

_Don't ever let him go._

He moaned her name.

" _Emma…_ "

She came hard, waves of pleasure washing over her as she tightened around him, gasping his name.

Then he was with her, his body shuddering, exploding, hot fluid filling her; her name on his lips as he held her snug against his body.

Shared aftershocks rippled through their bodies as their orgasms ended, falling onto one another for support—her head on his shoulder and arms hugging his back, his hand in her hair—his embedded hook the only reason they didn't collapse to the floor.

The euphoria gradually faded and reality returned.

_Time to leave._

And he  _knew_ , had to, because he suddenly broke the silence. "I apologize, love. That was not my finest moment."

_What the hell?_

She moved her head, meeting his eyes, an incredulous expression on her face. "You're  _apologizing_ for that?"

He tossed her a wicked grin, grabbing her bottom and pulling it tight against him, unable to hide the small shudder that escaped.

_Oh god, he was growing hard inside her._

"Aye. I gravely underestimated how savoring every part of your body would affect me." He moved inside her. "I assure you, the second time will last  _much_ longer."

She gasped as he rocked his hips. "Second time? That's not our deal."

He leaned closer, his lips by her ear, his voice a mere whisper. "You gave me the night to make you forget, love." He pressed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck and she shivered. "The night isn't over yet."

_He can destroy me._

_He will heal you. If you let him._

She couldn't think, didn't want to. Instead she pushed him away, wincing at the distraught look that flashed through his eyes, watching it change to surprise when she licked her lips. "Fine, but this time  _I_  get to do the tasting."

She almost missed it, the relief her words brought him. She shook it off, certain she'd imagined it.

He pulled his hook free from the ladder and winked at her. "I await my surrender, love."

* * *

 

_**TBC.** _

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many MANY thanks to Arandil and Kay20 for being wonderful betas and giving me the courage to pop my fanfic smut writing cherry. Writing smut might be a "one time thing" or the statement might be as true as Emma's declarations, which is to say "false". My guess is it is up to a certain pirate...
> 
> There will likely be one more part/epilogue to wrap this up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter is still rated **M**.

_That was…_

Emma’s blond locks curtained around his face as she leaned against him. He welcomed it, her forehead pressed against his, inhaling each other’s breaths, ragged and recovering.

_…bloody amazing._

Her legs still straddled his body as her feet slipped from the rungs of each side of the small desk chair he sat upon, dangling just above the floor. She relaxed into him, the motion pushing him deeper inside of her.

He bit back a moan and willed his body to relax. His internal clock warned him dawn was not far away and he knew the prince would seek him out soon to resume his place at the helm.

_If only he had more time._

He studied her face—her eyes still closed—trying to commit every unguarded inch to his memory before her walls slammed back into place.

He had minutes, at most.

He noted her flushed skin—blatantly evident thanks to its pale tone—remembering its taste on his tongue.

Her hair was wild, looking every bit like she’d been debauched by a pirate.

_Damn, she was beautiful._

He stared at her lips, swollen from their shared kisses and the payback she’d carefully reciprocated all over his body.

He grew hard at the thought.

_Bloody hell!_

Her eyes snapped opened and found his. “Really, Hook? Again?” She raised her eyebrows at him, a small smile forming on her lips as she shifted her weight, pushing her hips against his.

This time he couldn’t hide his groan.

_Bloody brilliant woman._

“Does that surprise you?” He brushed his thumb against her lips as she tightened her thighs around his waist. “I could have you a thousand times and still want you as much as the first.”

_He wasn’t done. Would never be done with her._

The only way he knew to distract her, to prolong their time, was with sex. Offering to hold her, asking her to sleep in his arms, would force her to retreat in an instant.

_The end was close, too close, already._

But she needed rest, the dark circles gifted by the nightmares now obvious. A flash of guilt hit him, recognizing his selfish need to extend their time together had stolen more sleep from her.

_Are you going to be a man of honor or a villainous pirate?_

Making a choice, his hand curved behind her head, pulling her mouth against his, brushing her lips once… twice—trying to infuse the tender kiss with the words he knew she wasn’t ready to hear.

_I love you._

He leaned forward, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to avoid falling to the floor—as he’d hoped—and he stood, grateful his legs maintained enough strength to rise and carry her.

_She felt so good around him._

Each step rocked her body against his and he held back another moan even as she answered with one of her own.

_Bloody—_

_Now is not the time._

“What are you do—” Her words cut off as he leaned over the bed, gravity pulling her from him. He finally slipped out of her as he unhooked her legs from where they’d wrapped around his waist, her arms following suit.

It nearly killed him to break the contact.

_You don’t want her father to find you together._

_Tick tock._

His kissed her forehead, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear—each lock always insisted he touch it—using his hook to pull the blanket over her. He forced a grin. “As much as I’d enjoy another go-round, love, I need to go relieve your father at the helm before he comes looking for me.”

The ramifications of David finding her—discovering what they’d done—flit across her face. “I should go.” She tugged at the cover of his bed, pulling it higher as if suddenly embarrassed by what she’d done.

 _No_.

“No need to rush off on my account.” He kneeled, opening a drawer beneath his bed and pulling out a dark shirt. He handed it to her, unable to miss the wariness in her eyes. “I won’t be back for the rest of the day and this bed is the best on my ship.” He turned away, looking for his pants, finally finding them hidden beneath the desk where Emma tossed them. “You’re welcome to sleep here as long as you like.” He could feel her eyes on his back as he bent over, picking the pants up and pulling them on—afraid he’d be unable to leave if he turned to face her.

_Damn, this hurt._

“If I failed in making you forget, you know where to find me.” He tried to make his tone light, joking, but bitterness crept into it.

_She would pretend this night never happened._

Her gasp of surprise was all too clear. “You’re just going to… leave me?” The vulnerability in her voice nearly destroyed him.

_Are you trying to push her away?_

_No!_

_Then fix it._

_Tell her._

He whirled around, closing the gap to the bed, her eyes wide as she clutched his shirt to her chest.

“Ask me to stay, Emma, and I will for as long as you wish.” The backs of his fingers brushed against her cheek. “Choose me and I’ll never let you go.”

He saw it, the yearning peeking out from beneath her careful mask, her gaze moving to his lips. For a moment he thought she’d kiss him and he’d have to formulate a way to escape her father’s sword because he’d be _damned_ if anything or anyone would tear him from her side.

Then it was gone, her mask solidified and walls rebuilt.  “I told you before, I can’t choose. Not yet. This was a one-time—” she stopped as he quirked an eyebrow at her, a faint blush coating her cheeks before she continued, “—a one _night_ thing.”

He nodded, her answer the only one he’d expected—hiding the hopeful part still burning within—looking away from her as he pulled another shirt from beneath the bed, putting it on and buttoning it, her weighted gaze heavy on him.

He held his words until he donned his leather coat, turning back to the bed, noting she hadn’t moved—to stay or to leave. “I can wait.”

_I will wait, forever if I must._

He moved to leave but stopped when her hand grabbed his arm, unsure what the gesture meant, certain it wasn’t what he wished. “Yes, love?”

She dropped his arm immediately, using hers to point to his head. “You might… that is…” A laugh bubbled out, surprising a genuine smile onto his face—even though he sensed it was at his expense. “You _might_ want to fix your hair before you leave.”

His eyes moved to her hair—tousled and askew—knowing his likely fared the same. He winked at her. “Too right, darling.”

He took longer than needed to fix it, fully aware she watched his every move, and not wanting to end their time removed from the rest of the ship, but knowing if he didn’t the world would intrude—and not in a good way.

He faced her again. “Better?”

She nodded, a faint smile still upon her face. “You don’t look like you fought a dragon and came out the losing side anymore.”

He chuckled. “Is that so?” He closed the small space between them and her breath hitched as he brought his lips close to her ear. “It’s a battle I’d willingly lose every night, love.”

He backed away before the temptation to stay grew too great, catching a glimpse of the heat in her eyes before she hid it. “You know where to find me, should you have further need of me.” He gave her another wink as he slid the bolt on the door open.

“Hook?”

He turned, facing her a final time, drinking in the view of her in his bed. “Aye?”

_Stay. Ask me to stay._

“Thank you.”

He nodded again. “Sleep well, love.”  He opened the door behind him, giving a small bow. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

The door clicked as he closed it and he leaned his body against the wood for support as he carefully composed his mask, compartmentalizing the night’s events and repressing his feelings so he could focus on the two things he had to do: pretend this night never happened and bring her family safely back to Storybrooke, where maybe, one day, she would choose him.

* * *

_He was gone._

The click of the door closing echoed with finality.

_It was just a one night stand. No big deal._

_Liar._

She opened her hands, wincing at the half-moons imprinted into her palms from her nails.

_“Hook?”_

_“Aye?”_

_Stay._

She’d almost said the word—begged the word if she was honest—barely managing to catch herself in time, distracting her hands so she couldn’t reach for him.

_Because cuddling afterward is somehow scarier than having his tongue taste—_

_Yes._

_—and more intimate than having your tongue lick his—_

_Yes!_

She shook her head, trying to clear it, not wanting to analyze her actions— _any_ of them.

It proved almost impossible; any glance around the room—seeing the ladder, the chair—brought back an instant replay of all the things she—and Hook—had done.

The only escape was to close her eyes, blocking the view of his cabin.

A yawn rolled over her, then another, the toll of the last week overtaking her.

The urge to flee, to run and escape the room, weakened.

Yes, she was in his bed.

_The bed smells like Hook._

_You smell like Hook._

Yes, she was in _his_ room.

It was also the only private place on a ship full of her family and a rather large group of lost boys.

Hook was right, dammit.

If she wanted to sleep—and she desperately needed it—this was the one place she could do so without interruption.

It just happened to be the same place she’d had the hottest, most intimate sex of her life.

No other one-night stands even came close.

_But he wasn’t just a one-night stand._

_He’s your friend._

_He’s Hook._

_You love h—_

“Shut up!” Her shout reverberated around the room and she put her face in her palm. “Great, now I’m talking to myself. I really am getting delirious.”

Another series of yawns hit her and exhaustion crashed into her. Just the thought of standing up and leaving the room—or locking the door—required too much effort.

She used the last bit of energy to pull Hook’s shirt over her head—just in case someone did seek her out—hoping her panties and bra weren’t in plain view but too tired to do anything about it if they were.

She sank into his bed, pulling the covers over her, the softness of the mattress heaven compared to the unforgiving ground of Neverland or the crew’s bunks.

The scent of him wrapped around her and for a moment—a weak one—she imagined she’d asked him to stay and his arms cradled her body.

Before she could scold herself for daring to think such things, the dark comfort of sleep washed over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe there will be one more chapter to wrap things up, unless a pirate hijacks the story...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because you can't have a Nevenger story without Davey Jones/Captain Charming or snarky Regina…

 

Silence blanketed the deck, the faint glow of sunrise peeking over the horizon, as Hook walked to the helm. Lost boys littered the deck, out cold, and he took care to keep his footsteps quiet, not wanting to wake them.

David looked almost as tired as Emma had, his eyelids low, leaning into the wheel.

_Damn good thing he left when he did. The prince appears minutes away from collapsing._

_But if she'd asked him to stay…_

Hook shoved the thought away and waited until he reached the helm to speak so their conversation wouldn't disturb the others. "Rough night, Dave?"

"You have no idea. Did you know the lost boys like to sing? Off key? Neal taught them the song  _Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall_."

"I'm not familiar with that one." He nudged the prince away from the wheel, glad to have something to distract him. "I take it the song is quite unpleasant?

"If you piss me off again, I'll sing it to you. All ninety-nine verses. Repeatedly."

Hook chuckled at the threat. "You'll sing me a song  _you_  detest to punish me? Aren't we quite the sacrificial hero?

Dave paused and shook his head. "You're right. That would be crazy. I'll take a page out of the villain handbook and have my evil lost boy minions sing it to you."

Hook choked back another laugh—no need to wake the would-be singers too early. "I do believe you have more in common with me than you thought, mate.

David tossed him a tired grin. "Careful, Hook, or my wife will think you're a bad influence."

Hook snorted and a lost boy nearby began to stir. "Don't blame me for your dreams of malfeasance. I believe in good form. I wasn't the one who taught them the bloody song."

"Good point." David rubbed his eyes. "I'm agreeing with you far too much. I must be tired." His jaw widened with a deep yawn. "Please tell me my offer wasn't in vain and you got some sleep. At least one of us should be alert."

"Enough. Thank you." The prince had no idea just how grateful Hook was he'd been in his quarters that night.

_Or of the things he'd done to Emma._

"Am I missing something?"

The words caught Hook off guard and he wondered if he'd allowed his mask to slip. He raised an eyebrow, careful to keep his face nonchalant. "Care to be more specific, mate?"

"There's something different about you." David studied him closer. "New hairstyle?"

"Like it, mate? I did it just for you." He winked at David, hoping he didn't look too deep for the truth.

David rolled his eyes. "Somehow I doubt that." The stare returned and Hook could almost hear the gears turning in the man's head, clicking into place.

_Best beat him to the answer._

"Actually, your daughter is to blame."

"Is that right?" The humor left David's face, an unsettling calm taking over, as he switched from friend—if you could call it that—to father.

"Aye. The poor lass was wandering the ship, exhausted. Since I was already awake I offered her the use of my bed." He corrected the wheel slightly, focusing on the stars blinking out of view as the sun rose. "I felt her sleep was more important than being coiffed perfectly."

All of it was the truth.  _Technically_.

He  _had_  heard her outside of his room before she'd burst through the door.

Emma was exhausted and he had been  _very_  awake when offering her his bed.

He'd nearly left the room with his hair in complete disarray.

Not a single direct lie.

He avoided those except when absolutely necessary and had not lied to the prince since saving David from dreamshade. Now he was forced to lie by omission. It was not his place to reveal what transpired between him and Emma, particularly to her own father, and giving the man  _any_ inkling as to what went on would put the blame on Hook's shoulders.

It would also likely get him killed.

"So you're telling me Emma is in  _your_  room,  _in your bed_?"

A sardonic grin spread across his face. "There's no need to be jealous, Dave. I'm all yours now."

_Although David might want to run him through with a sword if he learned the full truth…_

"I'm a married man, Hook."

"Well there goes my happy ending. How  _ever_ shall I recover?"

A huff of laughter escaped David, followed by a huge yawn. "Hell, I'm too tired for this. I'll have to break your heart another night." Another yawn. "Is she sleeping?"

_I don't even know if she stayed._

He hadn't missed how studiously she'd avoided going near his bed during the night, so it was entirely possible she'd fled as soon as he'd left.

Hook shrugged. "I didn't wait around for her to fall asleep. Your daughter isn't the type to do so with an audience."

David nodded, stepping closer to Hook as another lost boy stirred. "Here's the strange thing. Snow came up about an hour ago—she couldn't find Emma and was worried about her." He fiddled with the top of his sword where it was holstered. "You wouldn't know anything about where my daughter was then, would you…  _mate_?"

Uneasiness crept up his spine— _if Snow had walked by his cabin_ —but he kept the picture of bored amusement on his face. "Oh,  _that_. She wanted to talk. And talk."

_Not a lie. She had. At first._

"Emma wanted to…  _talk_ … with  _you_ … in the middle of the night…in your  _bedroom_?" His disbelief was palpable.

"Aye. Imagine my disappointment."

" _Hook—_ "

"You make it too easy, mate."

David pulled out his sword, as if considering using it. "I'm really tired Hook, because I did a favor for you and I haven't had a cup of coffee since the day we went to Neverland. You don't want to push me right now."

Hook searched the sky, pretending to check the ship's course, needing a valid reason to deliberately avoid the man's eyes. "My cabin was the only location not occupied with someone sleeping. I assure you, I was a perfect gentleman."

_Until she begged him to make her "feel it."_

_Though a gentleman always allows a lady to come first._

_And she had done so twice before he lost control._

Whatever Dave concluded appeased him and he removed his hands from the sword. "Good." He yawned again. "I'll leave you to it then." He began walking, but stopped and pivoted around only a few steps away. "Hook?"

"Aye?"

"If you break her heart I'll—"

"You'll do what? Take my other hand?" He raised an eyebrow again. "Sing to me?"

"Don't tempt me."

He allowed his mask to slip. "I would do anything for her, mate. Including stay away if that's what she wishes."

David nodded again, a twinge of a smile gracing his face before he spun around, heading below deck.

Hook released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Had the prince just given him his blessing?

_As if that was the most difficult part of winning Emma's heart._

_It certainly doesn't hurt._

Life moved on deck, several lost boys stumbling around and talking, waking the others. One of them hummed a catchy tune and Hook picked it up quickly. It wasn't until he caught the murmured words of "beer on the wall" he realized what song they'd been humming.

"Bloody hell."

* * *

_The heat of Hook's skin warmed Emma's bare back, his right arm draped over her waist, his hand finding hers and lacing their fingers together._

_His breath whispered on her neck as he nuzzled her, occasionally brushing his lips against her skin._

_A contented sigh escaped her as she pulled his arm snug against her waist, scooting her bottom closer to him, until every possible inch of their skin touched._

_His sharp inhale was unmistakable against her body, his grip on her hand tightening as he grew hard against her._

" _Seriously, Hook? I thought you just wanted to hold me."_

" _I find myself wanting to do all manner of things to you, love. Right now I'm enjoying the novelty of holding you." Another soft kiss caressed her neck. "I suggest you get used to the idea that I wish to spend every moment with you."_

" _And if I don't wish the same?" A shiver rolled down her spine as his lips touched her again._

" _Then I shall wait for the day when you are as hopelessly besotted with me as I with you." Teasing laced his voice and he squeezed her hand. "You'll find I'm a very pat—"_

A loud thump roused her from the dream, her body used to being on alert after Neverland. Emma was out of bed and grasping for her missing cutlass before she realized she was in Hook's quarters and naked except for a shirt that barely covered her.

The events of last night flooded her mind.

_Henry. The nightmare. Breaking down. Hook._

_Oh god. Hook!_

For a minute the lines blurred—what was real, what was a dream—and she tried to convince herself she'd only slept in his room.

_Without your underwear?_

The minor aches protesting throughout her body said otherwise.

She turned and saw herself in the mirror across the room and every bit of plausible deniability drained out of her.

_Nononono_.

Between her wild hair, swollen lips, and the cleavage attempting to spill out through the deep vee of Hook's shirt, Emma painted the perfect picture of a woman thoroughly ravished.

_Oh god._

_What have I done?_

_What haven't you?_

She shook her head, trying to ignore the memories playing through her mind like a television clip show on high speed.

_The kiss stealing her breath._

_Trying to get him to take her._

_His refusal as his tongue tasted her entire body._

_All but one spot._

_Until…_

_She shattered. Once. Twice._

_How right he'd felt deep within her._

_Two damaged souls...together._

_His looks, his words._

_Collapsing into one another._

_Her attempts at retribution._

_Using sex to try to add distance between them ._

_Failing._

_Not wanting to let go._

_Fear._

_Wanting him to stay._

_Needing him to stay._

_Shoving him away._

_Regret. Pain._

_His power to destroy her._

_Exhaustion._

_The soothing scent of him._

_Nightmare free sleep._

_A dream of what could have been._

"Goddammit!"

All those carefully constructed walls she spent years strengthening were useless against Hook. Somehow he found a way inside her fortifications and she cared about him—too much.

She didn't want a relationship.

She didn't need one.

All she needed was Henry.

People didn't stay in her life; they passed through, leaving damage in their wake.

Hook would leave her like everyone else _._

_He's the one who came back._

_But he almost died in Dark Hollow._

_It's like I curse anyone who kisses me and after last night…God, what if something happens to him? Graham was bad enough, but if Hook died…_

Her chest tightened; the thought terrified her.

_I couldn't possibly lo—_

Neverland obviously made her lose her mind. She needed to step away, refocus. Think about life returning to normal in Storybrooke.

What was important was Henry; making sure he was okay after the traumatic events of Neverland, and keeping her distance from Hook—he was safer that way,  _she_  was safer that way—ensuring they were never alone again.

Her gaze caught her reflection again and she grimaced, knowing if anyone saw her like this they'd instantly know what—and who—she'd been doing in Hook's quarters.

The brightness streaming in from the windows hinted she'd missed a good portion of the day.

_How long was I sleeping?_

She avoided looking at the ladder and chair while she walked around the room and picked up her discarded clothing. Her bra took the longest to find—it had fallen behind the desk—and once dressed she grabbed Hook's comb and set to work taming her wild hair.

She clenched her jaw when a smile threatened to form, remembering Hook doing the same with his hair—how sexy he'd looked when—

"Dammit!"

Distance. She needed distance from him. From this room.

She decided her hair was at least to the level of normal bedhead, hoping no one noticed the stubble burn on her skin—she'd hide it with her sweater as soon as she could change—and she exited his room as quietly as possible.

She almost crashed into Regina, stumbling to a stop just in time.

"There you are. It's about time you woke up."

Emma forced her gaze to meet Regina's, knowing any hint of guilt or embarrassment would be detected. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't get much sleep in Neverland."

"You and me both, but you don't see me napping during the day like a toddler, do you?"

Emma sighed. "What do you want Regina? I have to check on Henry."

"That's exactly what I need to talk to you about. While you were dreaming of…. whatever you dream of, Pan snuck onto this ship."

" _What_?" Emma started jogging, shoving her way past Regina and making her way to the secondary crew's quarters where she'd last seen Henry. "Why didn't you wake me?"

_I never should have left Henry. I should have stayed._

This was why she didn't have time for a relationship; she always had to be ready to fight. She was the Savior and the safety of her son and the entire town rested on her shoulders.

Regina grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. "Gold handled it. Pan froze Neal with some sort of spell and tried to steal Henry's heart." Emma couldn't hide her growing horror but Regina smiled. "Luckily I'd cast a spell to prevent such a thing from ever happening. Gold caught the little twerp in Pandora's box before I could do anything more… satisfying."

"So he's okay? Henry's okay?" Emma couldn't stop the racing of her heart.

"He's fine. He's up on deck chatting with... magic coconut colander boy." Regina rolled her eyes.

Emma shook her head. "He has a name, you know. He is Henry's father."

Regina grimaced. "Don't worry, I'll play nice back in Storybrooke and share, but I don't have to like him." Her eyes flickered over Emma for a moment, studying her. "You look different."

Emma kept her face calm. "I've finally had sleep after watching our son give his heart to a demonic teenager from a story book." She raised an eyebrow at Regina. "That kind of changes a person."

Regina gave her a sideways look before finally nodding. "I'll see you on deck then. Your boyfriend claims we aren't far from Storybrooke—maybe another few hours or so."

_Boyfriend?_

Her stomach flipped at just the mention of him and it took all of Emma's willpower to hide her reaction by rolling her eyes at Regina. "He is  _not_ my boyfriend." She paused for a beat. "It will be good to be home again, though." And off this ship, away from the location of far too many intimate memories with a certain leather clad pirate.

_He chased your nightmares away—at least for one night._

_With his tongue._

Emma buried the thought, hurrying to the crew's quarters for her sweater and jacket as Regina walked away.

She'd foolishly allowed herself to break down last night and the moment of weakness had put her son in harm's way. She needed to be strong every day because she was a magnet for bad moments.

It was time to be the Savior again: strong, capable, in control, and… alone. The Savior could protect her son—protect everyone—from everything.

The Savior didn't have time or a need for devastating kisses, amazing sex, or intimate cuddling.

…

…

_Liar_.

* * *

Hook stood on the deck, leaning against the side of his ship as the passengers disembarked, each person encircled in welcome when they reached the dock, with hugs and smiles given by those who had missed them.

He waited—as captain he would leave the ship last—but was unable to squelch the growing melancholy of how, when his steps hit land, there would be no one to warmly greet him.

_Because everyone you care about is already on this ship._

His eyes sought out Emma, enveloped in the flurry of greetings.

She'd only spared him the most cursory of glances since she'd awoken, refusing to meet his eyes.

_Not surprising, but a small part of him had hoped…_

He pushed away from the rail, unable to watch the joy on the docks below, and hurried to his cabin.

Her scent surrounded him as he opened the door and he stumbled from the surprise of it. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing a moment of weakness and wishing she still remained.

Damn, he missed her already.

He walked to the bed, the image of her laying there burned into his memory. He brushed his hand along the cover before picking it up and inhaling it—the smell of her so strong he had to fight the urge to wrap himself within it and pretend…

_Pretend she's chosen me to entrust with her love._

_But she stayed. She slept here. It's a start._

Hook dropped the blanket, knowing he couldn't linger or he might allow the weight of her absence to take him over and never leave these walls—the ache inside more painful than he'd anticipated.

He took care to ignore the ladder and chair and reached into a cupboard on the wall, pulling his flask from inside and sliding it into its rightful place in his pocket.

He had a feeling he'd need it before the night was out and his cabin…

It wasn't his anymore.

She'd laid claim to it, branding this room as she had his soul.

He didn't want to be in his cabin without her.

He headed back to the deck, knowing the ship had to be nearly empty, wondering if anyone had noticed his absence.

_Not likely._

It was dangerous—allowing her to entrench herself so deeply into his life—and the possibility of her shattering his heart remained very real.

_Only…_

_Last night…_

She'd allowed him inside—not just her body, but the walls she so carefully constructed around her.

_Progress. A sign at least a part of her trusted him._

He'd seen her fear of being hurt—he recognized it the day they met—and knew it would be the driving force pushing him away.

He only hoped this time her pushing was less drastic—perhaps her continued ignoring of his existence would be it?—and avoided giants and leaving him behind.

_You're friends now, remember? She'd never leave you behind._

He reached the deck and surveyed the area, finding only a few souls left.

" _We understand each other."_

He held her words close and followed the last lost boy off the ship.

No one hugged or greeted him.

He remained apart from formed groupings, orbiting on the outside, not fitting in anywhere.

Much like the Queen—Regina—isolated from the others.

He stopped next to her and stood, recalling their conversation on the way Neverland.

"Are we still the villains of the story, my hard-headed queen?"

She glanced sideways at him, a smirk quickly covering any hint of weakness. "Didn't you get your happy ending, Captain?" She leaned in closer, until her lips were within inches of his ear. "Or did you fail to live up to your innuendo last night?"

His laugh was short, bitterness lacing the edges, as he struggled to keep his persona in place. "Jealous we didn't have any quality time in Neverland, love?"

Regina rolled her eyes. " _Please_. You're a lovesick puppy on a leash following around its master, desperate for scraps. I'm surprised the entire ship doesn't know."

_This is why you should never initiate a conversation with the Evil Queen._

_It never ends well._

His fingers already itched to grab the rum bottle. "And what  _exactly_  do you think there is to know?"

"Enough I nearly lost my breakfast when I caught your precious savior doing the walk of shame from your quarters."

"Ahh, but I was not with the lovely Swan in my room. I was at the helm, as you well know."

She side-eyed him again. "Don't mistake me for the two idiots who are her parents. Or is their saccharine sweetness rotting your brain?"

"And here I thought you were all one big, happy family." He tilted his head toward Emma and her family, Henry almost lost in the flurry of hugs. "Feeling left out?"

He caught it then: a glimpse of Regina's vulnerability.

It vanished so quickly he wondered if he'd imagined it.

"My son loves me and if I wasn't a villain, we never would have escaped Neverland."

He glanced at Neal, enfolded with Belle and Rumplestiltskin then back at Emma and Henry—both the epitome of happy families, and he realized what he'd have to do. "The things we do for our children."

David—arms around Emma and her mother—gave him a nod as if to say "thank you".

A small smile formed on Hook's face as he left Regina and walked to David.

Storybrooke was just a place. It wasn't his home.

It was hers.

And his home… for most of his life it had been the  _Jolly Roger_.

_And now…_

Emma's eyes found his, capturing him with the unguarded need flaring within their depths, and he let his façade slip, allowing her to see a hint of his inner turmoil.

She shook her head—the moment gone almost before it began—breaking the connection and turning back to her family as Hook joined their group.

He slid his mask back into place, though not before David caught his eyes, giving him a sympathetic look and clapping Hook on the back before slinging it around his wife's shoulders.

Hook watched them a moment—the embodiment of true love—and knew he was already blessed—or damned—to walk in their path.

_His home is wherever Emma is._

For better.

Or worse.

_**THE END (for now)** _

* * *

 

_**Review?** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this fic is titled "Leaving Neverland" and the Nevengers have reached Storybrooke, I feel I must bring this story to a close, though it saddens me to do so.
> 
> However, I decided to continue their story in "Missing Pieces." So you can treat this as a stand alone fic, or read Part 2 of the Captain Swan journey that takes these events into account, while still blending with canon.  
> \-------------  
> As always, much thanks to Arandil for being my awesome beta. (cross posted at ff.net)

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to Arandil, my amazing beta.
> 
> Reviews are like hot chocolate and cinnamon.. Yes please?


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